


I'll open the door to heaven or hell

by noblealice



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, POV Female Character, Reapers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:59:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/527076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noblealice/pseuds/noblealice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt "My name is Death and the end is near" at ladyfest'10. Title from Jen Titus's "O Death". Spoilers up to 5x10 "Abandon All Hope".</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll open the door to heaven or hell

A Reaper talks to hundreds of thousands of souls every hour, every minute, every second. They all die so fast and the Reapers must stretch out time to fit them all in. If their voices could go hoarse with use, hers would probably sound like the dried croak of a toad before sunrise. One by one the souls are ticked off the list that will never grow shorter.

Reapers weren't always as stretched out as thin as they are now. Death is one constant that can never be erased, but before the Angels descended to play among the mortals, they at least had time to rest between consults. Recently the violent climate of ash and blood is reminiscent of the ancient wars of yesterday.

Tessa has always specialized in those who were unsure of their future. Mostly she stays in her area code, dealing with all manner of souls as they pass through her territory

However, she is sometimes called in on special cases when a gentle nudging touch is needed to show the souls on their way, whatever it might be. All Reapers have many forms to comfort those on their passing, but the shape called Tessa seemed to be particularly skilled in this area. She has no idea why and she thinks that humans will always be foreign to her, no matter how many of their souls she ferries across.

Tessa had no problem with people choosing to stay behind as echoes; so long as they decided one way or the other, her job was complete. (Reapers can't have limbo filling up with wishy-washy souls.)

Every millions souls or so, she finds that her preconceived ideas about a person are wrong. It doesn't so much irritate her as inconvenience her. She has no pride to speak of that could be offended by a mere human surprising her, and she has existed long enough to know that nothing can be predicted with any accuracy.

Still, there is something different about hunters, something that makes them never behave the way you expect. It's a bother at the best of times.

When she first met Dean Winchester, she smiled and told him it was his lucky day. (She still sometimes wonders what made her lie.)

After his soul was pulled right out from her grasp, she itched to meet him again. She patiently waited as he put himself in harm's way week after week. She tried to tell herself that she was not disappointed when he never turned up, but eventually the lie became tiresome.

 

\---

 

Eventually, another Winchester arrived and if she were capable of emotions, she might be embarrassed to say that she jumped at the chance to help him cross over. As it was, she merely shrugged her shoulders and watched as the young boy slowly stirred from his sleeping position on the floor. His body was curled in a ball and his floppy hair was covering his face.

Humans were generally volatile when their life was taken from them, especially if they believed it had been taken too early. It was easier to wake them from sleep than to confront them with the jolt of the end.

He sat up, blearily rubbed his eyes and yawned before the quick snap of tension settled in, making him alert. She could see him quickly searching the area, scanning for escape routes from this unfamiliar room.

Poor humans, she thought, as if escape was that easy.

She spoke up, making him aware of her presence. Humans didn't always see her kind right away, not if they weren't looking.

"I had to pull some strings for you, Sam." His head whipped around to stare at her. "You see, I just couldn't help but want to meet the other Winchester brother." She leaned down to part his bangs, allowing her a better view of his eyes.

"What is it about you two that make people want you as a set?" She murmured almost to herself.

"Who are you?" His words were an angry bark, clearly meant to threaten those still capable of experiencing physical pain. In that moment, she almost pitied him, his skills were of no use here.

She continued on, as if uninterrupted. "You're out of my zone and I normally stick to my territory but your brother made an impression on me and I can't tell you how rare that is." It would be best to distract him from the helplessness of his situation; mortals always seemed to fall apart when they felt powerless.

"My brother?" His eyes made a second scan. "Dean!" He shouted out, as if expected his big brother to swoop in and save the day. It was almost touching.

"He's not here, Sam."

"Where are we?" She could see the fear start to settle and smiled, that always made things easier than the denial.

"This place was pulled from your memories. We do that for sudden or violent deaths."

It comes rushing back to him and she watches his face spasm with the pain of a lost memory. "Jake! There was a knife! I gotta--"

"Hush. It does no good to dwell on a past that cannot be changed. It's better to move on." She placed a cold hand on his shoulder.

"Is this purgatory?"

"Some have called it that. I like to think of it as a place where you make a choice. Perhaps your most important choice."

He looked around, incredulously. "The admissions office door at Stanford? You guys couldn't get a bit more creative?"

"Your mind picked the illusion, Sam. What matters isn't how you do so, but if you decide to cross over."

"Can't I say goodbye one last time?"

"By becoming the very thing you hunt? Surely you are stronger than the urge to return as a ghost...or have I read you wrong?" Something flickers across his face that she can’t read and she is shocked by how much she wishes she could.

Understanding humans is difficult, they can be such complex creatures. There have been times when she wished she had more space to learn about them, to study their motives and thoughts. But her job is merely to soothe and console while pushing them towards a door.

"Will Jess be in there?"

"Along with all the people you've ever lost."

Sam moves to get up, his hand hovering over the brass doorknob when the glass pane cracks. He loses his balance, crashing into the wall as bits of plaster fall from the ceiling. 

She doesn’t hear the roar that has caused him to cover his ears and yell his question at her. "What's happening?"

She closed her eyes and mentally checks the records. New notes are being written on the file as she waits.

"Something's bringing you back, retying the thread that connects you to your physical body." She closed her lips into a tight line. She does not like the unexpected, yet it seems to occur every time she meets these Winchester boys. They were a puzzle.

There was only one thing left to do before her hands were tied. She touched her finger to his forehead. "You won't remember this conversation, your family already knows too much about Reapers."

"I'm sorry, Sam." She whispered after he had gone.

 

\---

 

The one good thing about hunters is that they don't ask as many questions. Not that Tessa has a limit to her patience (that would be a poor thing to possess in her line of work) but it's a small blessing that hunters have seen enough of the otherworldly and inexplicable to accept the concept of an afterlife without too many crises of faith. The girl she sits beside now has listened to Tessa's speech with a quiet calm few people display around her.

It'd be comforting if she could be comforted.

"I knew I would die today." 

The brunette's file had odd markings on it. Tessa is supposed to do something but she can't remember. Time moves strangely for Reapers and she has only just arrived at this moment.

"I can feel myself being pulled. Is that normal?"

Tess glances over at her newest charge, puzzled. She takes the time to check her name and frowns. Obviously this one is not going to be as quick and easy as she'd hoped.

"What is it you're not telling me, Bela?"

"I sold my soul. So, it's not really my choice where I move on to from here, is it? I'm sorry for wasting your time."

"Not at all. Whether you are in possession of your soul or not, you are still allowed time to grieve for your body, for the life you lost."

"But then I'll still have to go?"

"Yes, deals must be paid. No Reaper can undo what has been done in life."

The girl stars at her lap and wipes at her eyes but there are no tears. Tessa has always admired the stoic ones.

"Can you tell Dean Winchester I said 'Hi' when you see him next? It won't be long now."

Tessa wonders what this mortal can know of the world that a Reaper does not, but merely nods in agreement. It is an empty gesture as Reapers aren't made to keep promises except to the List but it cheers the girl and that is Tessa's job.

Indeed, its months after the fact that she finally hears of Dean's death. She doesn't know why, but a part of her actually wishes that she could have been there to welcome him and ease his transition. She later learns that Hell was an unavoidable fate for Dean and she wonders how that came about. 

But wondering about mortals is a futile concern and she shakes it off on the way to her next appointment.

 

\---

 

She nudges the blonde's sleeping form with her boot as her time is precious these days. There are so many souls clamouring for her attention that the knowledge claws at the back of her mind. With the recent activity, no Reaper has had a moment's peace and the List she keeps grows ever longer.

"So what's your story, little girl? A brave one like you should have no need for me."

"Am I dead?"

"Your physical body has been lost, yes."

"Is this heaven?"

"No. This is a sort of between place. And you aren't the kind to stay between places long, are you Jo?" Tess winds one long curl around her finger before letting her hand brush against the blonde's shoulder.

"Does that mean that there is a heaven? Is that where I'm going?"

"I can't say, I've never left." She bends to kneel down, cups this girl’s chin in her hand. "Tell me, child. What do you see?"

"It's the camp ground my Dad used to take me to. We'd go on weekend fishing trips every year when I was a kid." The blond gives a watery smile. "That path leads to the creek where we never caught anything." Tess smiles back, filling it with as much reassurance as she can in these busy times. Something about this one reminds her of heroes and martyrs of long-ago. She hopes she gets all the wonders she deserves.

She has a sense that the creek will be filled to the brim with fish. 

"Go on your path, Jo. I can tell that you're a hunter through and through and with a soul like yours, you'll need no help from me to find your way."

Tessa barely has time to watch Jo fade between the trees. She must move on, the list tells her that she has a mother to tend to next.

 

\---

 

Another soul's been ticked off the list; a Reaper's work is never done.

**Author's Note:**

> A podfic exists for this, recorded by cybel, which you can listen to here: http://audiofic.jinjurly.com/ill-open-door-to-heaven-or-hell


End file.
